WHAT IS THE RIGHT PRICE FOR ESOTERIC KNOWLEDGE?
Balancing the Scales: The Ethics of Monetising Mysticism
The ongoing debate, a historical echo, surrounding the commercialisation of magical education strikes at the very heart of spiritual traditions, juxtaposing ancient tenets against contemporary practices.
I would like to delve into the intricacies of this contentious issue, exploring both sides of the argument — those who staunchly believe that magical training cannot be bought and those who see the monetisation of magical teaching as a necessary adaptation to the modern world.
Historical Context and the Sanctity of Magical Knowledge
Historically, the pursuit of magick and its teachings has been cloaked in secrecy and reverence. In many esoteric traditions, particularly noted in the Rosicrucian Manifestos, there is a clear admonition against commercialising spiritual knowledge.
These manifestos, which significantly influenced the Magical Revival of the Victorian era that arguably laid out the foundations of the way we perceive the idea of magical training in the modern era, argue that true spiritual wisdom should not be commodified, suggesting that the most profound magickal insights come from personal, unmediated experiences rather than formalised instruction.
…that none of them should profess any other thing, then to cure the sick, and that gratis…
- Fama Fraternitatis
The belief is that Initiation — true spiritual awakening — transcends the material plane and thus cannot be sold. The deepest esoteric secrets are inherently non-communicable; they must be experienced directly by the seeker. The secrets of the Arte must be “secreted” from the seeker’s experience. This perspective is underpinned by a view of magick as a profoundly personal journey towards enlightenment, where the seeker’s own efforts to understand and connect with the universe play a critical role and where the teachers he would meet along the road will guide him completely “free of charge”, having themselves swore oaths to do so in an effort towards an idealised purity of will and of intent.
Criticism from a Place of Privilege
Moving on a few centuries, prominent figures from the Victorian and Edwardian eras and key actors in the Magical Revival, such as Dion Fortune, have often been quoted in this context. However, a closer examination reveals that many of these proponents came from backgrounds of considerable wealth and privilege.
This raises questions about the accessibility of their teachings — while they could afford to eschew financial compensation, many modern practitioners cannot.
Critics argue that the stance of these historical figures can sometimes serve more to cement a sense of elitism and exclusivity rather than to preserve the purity of magickal knowledge. There is a sense that some use these traditional views as a means to feel smug and superior rather than out of a genuine concern for the sanctity of the teachings.
This is particularly evident in my own magical tradition, Thelema. Aleister Crowley often ranted against the very idea of people selling magical teaching.
Yet, the entry requirement in his A∴A∴ was buying a pile a meter high of his published books, masked as the need to acquire the sourcebooks for the work ahead. And then, there was the time when he literally advertised magical classes (at astronomical prices, too) while living in New York in the 1910s. However, contemporary fans of the Great Beast, often the most viciously critical of the “magick for sale”, tend to conveniently forget about these moments.
Likewise, contemporary A∴A∴figureheads of various lineages organise public classes for free — but donations are required. Fancy that.
Expanding our understanding of the role of monetary exchange in magical training invites a broader, more global perspective that starkly contrasts with the traditional European views. In many non-European cultures, exchanging money for spiritual knowledge is not only common but also seen as an essential aspect of the teaching and learning process. This is particularly evident in traditions such as Haitian Voudou, where houngans and mambos are compensated for their services. This compensation is not merely for the transmission of knowledge but also for the tangible elements they provide, such as rituals, healing practices, and spiritual guidance.
Similarly, in the diverse spiritual landscapes of Asia, it is customary for spiritual mentors to receive offerings or fees. For instance, in countries like India and China, it is typical for gurus and spiritual teachers to be supported by their students or community in a variety of ways, including monetary support. This support is viewed as a necessary sustenance that enables teachers to dedicate themselves fully to their spiritual practices and the dissemination of their knowledge without the distractions of secular occupations.
The demonisation of monetary exchange in a magical or spiritual teaching context appears to be a distinctly Euro-centric issue. This perspective overlooks the fact that in many cultures, the financial aspect of spiritual exchange is integrated seamlessly and respectfully without diminishing the perceived purity or sanctity of the knowledge being transmitted. It underscores a significant cultural divide in how spirituality and commerce are interrelated and valued differently across societies.
The Modern Marketplace of Magick
On the flip side, the commodification of magick in the modern era has indeed led to significant ethical and practical concerns. For instance, some practitioners may overcharge for their services, making magical education inaccessible to those with lower incomes. Others may use aggressive marketing tactics that exploit the vulnerability of individuals seeking spiritual guidance. These issues, when compared to the marketing strategies seen in life coaching businesses, raise valid concerns about the commercialisation of magickal education.
These businesses, often criticised for their aggressive marketing and high pricing models, have set a precedent that has unfortunately spilt over into occulture. This influence has created a landscape where anyone attempting to earn a living by monetizing their knowledge and passion for magick faces undue criticism.
Accusations of being a “grifter” are now thrown indiscriminately, painting all practitioners who charge for their services with the same broad brush. I have personally witnessed instances where even traditional and respected forms of dissemination, such as writing and selling books through conventional publishing avenues, have been unfairly labelled in this way. Such accusations are not only demoralising but also threaten the very sustainability of sharing magickal knowledge. This indiscriminate criticism stems from misunderstanding the legitimate needs of practitioners who rely on these revenues for their livelihood.
I am sure we would all love to be Victorian or Edwardian learned ladies and gentlemen of leisure. But the harsh reality is that we are currently living in one of the worst economic crunches in contemporary history, and the outlook going forward seems pretty grim.
Moreover, this scenario highlights a more significant issue of bad faith within parts of the community, where the intentions of sincere practitioners are questioned without merit. The result is a stifling environment where the fear of being labelled a sellout or a charlatan may deter skilled practitioners from sharing their knowledge publicly. This impacts the practitioners financially and deprives the broader community of valuable teachings and insights that could benefit their spiritual growth.
Finding Balance: Ethics and Accessibility
The challenge, then, is to find a middle ground between maintaining the sacredness of magical knowledge and ensuring its accessibility in a world that operates predominantly on monetary exchange. It is undeniable that teachers of magick, like any professionals, need to make a living. The question is how to do so without undermining the integrity and transformative potential of the teachings.
Could a sliding scale of fees, donations, or a pay-it-forward model work better than fixed high prices? Could these methods ensure that those genuinely dedicated to pursuing magickal knowledge can access it, regardless of their economic situation?
As someone who found himself in the role of the “professional magician” after my life took a series of unexpected turns around the time of the lockdown years and somehow managed to make it work, these are questions I ask myself very often.
In conclusion, while the criticism of teaching magick for money is steeped in historical sanctity and legitimate concerns about the commodification of spiritual practices, it also must adapt to contemporary socio-economic realities. The path forward requires a nuanced approach that respects the sacred origins of magick while embracing its practitioners’ necessity to survive in the modern economy. This delicate balance demands ongoing dialogue and thoughtful consideration from all corners of occulture.